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W. R. GUIBERSON, Town Critic 



Idle Talk 

THE TOWN CRITIC 



Bein& Selections from the Humorous 

and Sentimental Writings of 

W. R. Guiberson, in the 

Tulsa Daily World 




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COPYRIGHT 1916 

BY 
W. R. GUIBERSON 



JAN -5 1917 

©CI.A45-515 6 



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There's nothing half so pleasing like 
When after you have done your best, 
To have the boss come up to you, 
And with a smile of gratitude, 
Express himself most earnestly, 
In telling you he likes the way 
You've done the things assigned to you. 
It seems that better service comes 
From out a feeling such as this ; 
And if the bosses over town 
Would only cheer the worthy ones 
And give no space to idlers 
They'd find an extra effort there 
Deserving of the word of cheer. 



TALK [7] 

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You know there's lots in being 
Kind ; being good natured and 
Ready to find some kind of cheer 
In everything; always happy and 
Ready to sing ; meeting your friends 
With a cordial smile ; living a life 
That's really worth while; never 
Grumbling or finding fault; never 
Compelled to call a halt to flighty 
Desires or influence ; but giving way 
To common sense, letting it guide 
Your daily deeds, filling your wants 
Supplying your needs. Give it a trial 
I'm sure you'll find a great deal of 
Of pleasure in just being kind. 



[8] IDLE 

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Where is the lady of long ago 

We used to know when we were boys ; 

Where is the smile so kind and sweet 

She gave to us that bid us go 

About our work with cheer and grace; 

Where is the sound of gentle voice 

And touch of hand upon our cheek? 

Now can it be that it has passed 

And with the progress of the world, 

New thoughts and ideas have come 

To quench the flame of cherished dreams ; 

And in the hurry of the times, 

The gentle words and pleasant smiles 

Are superseded by the reign 

Of vague conventionalities ? 



TALK [9] 



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A friend of mine was going out 
The other night to 'tend a 
Ball, or party, dance, or what it 
Was, and friend had called 
In taxicab, and waited in the 
Parlor there and wondered if she 
Had forgot, for hour was nearly 
Ten o'clock ; and then it was he 
Asked the maid to tell the lady 
Hour was late. The maid replied, 
"The lady, sir, misplaced her 
Gown and can not find, and that 
Is why she is detained." But as 
She spoke the lady called from 
Head of stairs, "I have it Kate. 
I found it 'neath my handkerchief." 



[10] IDLE 

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A smile is worth while if it 
Comes from the heart and is 
Crowned with a little of cheer ; 
But a make-me believe can never 
Deceive and often results in a 
Sneer. A smile may be glad or 
A smile may be sad or a smile 
May be. dimmed with a tear; 
However the smile, it is surely 
Worth while if its crowned 
With a little of cheer. A human who 
Sees in nothing to please and 
No kindly word will avail ; is 
A dingy old sog, not as good as 
My dog, who smiles with a wag 
Of the tail. 



[ii] 



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I knew a man whose life was filled 
With every trouble that there was 
And nothing of his future claims 
Did offer hopes of brighter ends. 
But through it all he did maintain 
A balance of unwavering nerve, 
And on the street, with cheerful eye, 
Unto his friends did prompt reply, 
"Fm feeling fine," and with a smile 
Did greet them as they passed. 
This cheer was not a mocking pride, 
And he his troubles overcame; 
And fortune took his radiant smile 
And mingled with his eagerness, 
And wove into his future life 
The thread of joy and happiness. 



[12] IDLE 

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Did you ever notice people 

As they walk along the street, 

How they seemed to be so taken 

With the things upon display 

Behind the plate-glass windows, 

As they seem to scrutinize 

Every article before them 

In a most admiring way ? 

And the boss behind the counter 

Smiles and seems to feel so good, 

That his window is the very best 

Within the neighborhood. 

But if he'd look real closely, 

Oh, how his heart would hurt, 

For it isn't the things in window so much 

As the hang of the coat or skirt. 



,K [13] 



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Is there a man who can't recall 
His schoolboy days down on the farm ; 
Who wouldn't give his all to live 
The same old happy days again ; 
Who doesn't tingle when he thinks 
Of wooded fields and swimming holes ; 
Who has forgotten barefoot days 
Of bruised heels and bleeding toes ; 
Who doesn't recollect the times 
His mother whipped him for the things 
He did, she told him not to do ? 
If such there is, I say to him, 
You've missed the greatest age in life 
And what a blessing it would be 
If you could stop in your career 
And doff the worries and the care 
And in your thoughts call back again 
Your boyhood days and revel there. 



[14] IDLE 



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I very often meet the man 

Who's always groveling in the dumps 

And never sees a bit o' cheer 

In anything of life at all ; 

Who, when we pass the time o* day 

"Oh, everything seems going wrong 

And life is hardly worth it all." 

I know in every life there comes 

A dreary hour to dark the sun, 

But always sometime 'fore the night 

With cheering rays the sun shines bright. 

So stand erect above the cloud, 

Dispel the thought that all is dark, 

And lift the curtain of despair 

And 'mit a little sunshine there. 

And life will seem a different thing, 

Well worth the trouble that it brings. 

It matters not how dark the sphere, 

A smile will find the brightness there. 



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To you, the idle fathers of little 
Sons, who are too busy to give 
Them talk or listen to their 
Little tales of sorrow or woe 
Or happiness ; who never let them 
Go with you and see the things 
That they should see when only 
You were guiding them ; who make 
Them feel that you are bored 
When little questions come to 
You a thousand more or less ; who 
Never get right down to them and 
Get acquainted as it were. I want 
To say it isnt right. Your sons 
Need you to counsel with ; they 
Need your confidence and more, 
To feel that you were not alone 
Their dad, but really and truly 
A friend. 



[16] IDLE 

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Along about this time o' year 
When spring is hoverin' nigh ; 
Feller gits to f eelin' queer, 
Sort o' restless ; 'n by and by 
Somethin' kind o' pulls him on, 
And first dern thing he knows, 
He gits out his old fishin' kit 
And up the stream he goes. 
There ain't no use to throw it off, 
There's somethin' in the air 
That sets him itchin' f er a fish 
Along this time o' year. 
He ain't good f er nothin' else, 
Until he's fished it out — 
Just a dreamin' of a stream 
That's filled with bass er trout. 
I ain't talkin' on hearsay, 
Fer I feel it comin' on ; 
And when it does, I want to say 
There ain't no use, I'm gone. 



[17] 

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I ordered a plumber the other day 
And he came in, looked it over and 
Got out his rule and took some 
Measurements and went away and 
After a while he came again and 
Brought his tools and a lot of pipe 
And fittings and things to use and 
It wouldn't fit and he measured 
Again and went away and cut his 
Pipe and then came back and started 
To put his junk in place and found 
He hadn't an ell or a tee he should 
Have had and went away, came again 
And forgot his wrench and then it 
Was my patience failed and I said 
Things I can not write and he did 
Too. He finished the job and I 
Was glad. Instead of an hour I paid 
Him for four. Do you blame me much 
For being sore? 



[18] IDLE 

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How many times I've seen the man 

Who never answers to the hour; 

And how I've waited for him there 

Until my patience overrun, 

Brought forth expressions I regret. 

And to him now who says to me, 

"I'll meet you there at half past three," 

And when the hour at last arrives, 

And I am there to keep my word 

But he is not, and what is more 

He doesn't care or have a thought 

Of me or mine, or of the time 

I've spent for him and him alone ; 

I wish to say to such as he — 

That in the world of business men, 

You are the worst, and to me, sir, 

The most disgusting of them all ; 

And 'less you change this awful fault 

You'll never reach the goal you've sought 

For after all he merits most 

Who meets the hour whate'er the cost. 



TALK 






[19] 

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There ain't no use f er to 
Fume and fret, because of the 
Things you didn't get; fer 
Fumin' and frettin' won't do any- 
Good, it only adds to your 
Dingy mood. And it gits you 
Feelin' 'sour and blue' 'till you 
Git to a stage whatever you 
Do seems wrong, and there is 
Nothin' right, and you git in 
The dumps and all seems night, 
As fur as any hope's concerned, 
And you swear an oath, that the 
World be derned ; that there ain't 
No justice as fur as you've 
Learned. But it ain't nobody's 
Fault but yourn, and if you'll 
Brace and make a turn and try 
To find the brighter side, you'll 
Be a deal more satisfied. So 
Cast the grouch and wear a smile 
And things will prosper after while. 



[20] IDLE 



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Two men there were. One went about 
In most dejected lethargy 
Nor saw the brightness in the life — 
But only dark and dismal thoughts 
Did fill his mind of future things 
And when he spoke of what he had 
His voice was filled with bitterness. 
And for the failures that he made 
He blamed the world, and with a curse 
Declared that no man could succeed 
If people would persist in thoughts 
That he was just a common man 
Instead of one superior; 
And while he thus condemned it all 
The other worked with what he had, 
Contented with his present course, 
And with a challenge bid the world 
A friendly combat for success. 
And just the same as he had lived, 
The one went down to meet his fate. 
The other grew and in the end 
Success did crown his eagerness. 



[21] 



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There was a man as poor as dirt 
And many days he went about 
With hardly half enough to eat, 
He had no winter clothes to wear. 
His shoes were worn, his feet were bare. 
One day when he was nearly down, 
He met a man who gave him food 
And money, too, to buy some clothes, 
And gave him work to earn his bread. 
The months passed on, this man did gain, 
And fortune favored every turn 
Until at last he grew to be 
A man of wealth. And as he gained, 
Through sad reverses undeserved 
This kind old friend who gave him food 
Became as poor as once he was. 
And when one day in desperate mood 
He went to him and asked for food 
The rich man now, turned with a sneer 
And said, "What are you doing here ?" 
Now which of these the better man, — 
The kind and sympathetic soul, 
Or he, the cold, the heartless, rude, 
Devoid of all, e'en gratitude? 



[22] IDLE 

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If I could say the things I want 

About the man who sits and 

Talks of the things he's done and could 

Have done, the printer wouldn't 

Print them here and I 

Would be without a job. 

So I will tone myself to say 

The things I can and let it go. 

And if the man who thinks that 

All the world depends on him; 

That if he only had the 

Chance he'd clean the land 

Of vice and wrong; that people 

Must admit that he is smarter 

Far than all the rest, should 

Read these lines let it suffice 

To simply say that he who 

Thus is so imbued with self 

Importance as to think that no 

Event how great or small was 

Not at first his own, is as 

The bubble from the soap that swells 

And swells and then it 

Bursts and naught is left 

But just a drop. 



[23] 



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He limped upon the city's 
Streets and every step a 
Shot of pain did penetrate 
The very depths of feeling 
That he had. But not a 
Thought of him there was 
And with his pain he plod 
Along, nor did he think of 
Any rest the future had for 
Him. His body showed the 
Lack of food, his unkempt 
Sides the lack of care, and 
On the seat behind him there 
His master sat with whip in 
Hand and as he lingered in 
His pace, beat down upon his 
Aching sides and cursed him 
As with increased pain he 
Strove to do his will. 
Oh, man ! How brutal are thy 
Ways. How merciless thy hands 
I would that you might be 
The horse and this poor 
Limping creature for the 
Moment be the man. 



[24] IDLE 



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If I might have the things I 
Wish 'twould not be gold nor 
Land ; 'twould be a simple 
Mountain home where nature's 
Mighty hand doth paint each 
Day a different scene to 
Soothe the restless one. The 
Trees, the rocks, the snow-capped 
Peaks, from which the waters run 
To meet the sparkling brooks 
Below and ever as they flow, the 
Ferns and flowers in sweet 
Content doth nod and smile and 
Grow. Indeed a home for godly 
Things, for He doth seem so near ; 
And in the heart a sacred thought 
And reverential fear. So give me 
Home in mighty hills where 
Silence broods and spells ; where 
Moaning sounds of singing pines 
Subdues and soothes and quells. 
Where all of nature seems so 
Glad and gladsome nature all, 
There in midst of mighty woods 
I'll answer beck and call. 



[25] 



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Today a New Year's ushered in, 
And if each day it falls my lot, 
To be of service unto him 
Who in his sorrow needs a friend, 
I shall have felt no more or less 
Than just a simple duty done; 
And in the doing feel the good 
That comes from kindness understood. 
I shall feel good if I am strong 
To cast aside that which is wrong, 
And if I may from day to day 
Speak kindly all the words I say, 
And smile on him who needs a smile, 
And laugh if it may help to cheer, 
And prize the friendship I have won, 
I shall feel good for what I've done. 
I shall feel good if all my acts 
Will bear the scrutiny of facts ; 
If I may hold the friendship, love 
Of those who toil with me the day; 
And feel no conscience-stricken thought 
At end of week, I take my pay; 
If half my thoughts of others are, 
Not all of self and my own care ; 
I shall feel good if I may do 
That which pleases you and you. 



[26] IDLE 



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A young man came into my shop 
And as he sat and talked to 
Me I saw him pull from out 
His case a cigaret and light 
It there and after just a few 
Long puffs did deftly cast 
It down. And many times he did 
The same and as he told me of 
His wares I counted eight or 
Nine and saw the stains upon 
His hands, and noticed in his 
Attitude the lack of keenness 
There. And all his efforts to 
Convince bore not the weight 
Of argument. And as he rose to 
Leave me there, I said to him 
"Young man beware, for what I 
Tell you now is true — keen 
Competition is the force 
Against which man must strive 
And striving he must have the 
Strength and clearness to 
Perceive, but cigarets are 
Not the source from which 
These things are come." He 
Listened with attentive ear 
And opened up his silver case 
And when I finished, smiling, said, 
"Have a cigaret?" 



[27] 



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The other day I stood on fields 

Where nearly sixty years before 

Our soldiers fought and bled and died. 

And as the story of the fight 

Was told to me by one who fought, 

In fancy I could see them there 

And hear the roar of shot and shell ; 

But no, the soldiers — cold gray stones, 

The sound — the silence and the spell. 

And tho' 'twas nearly three score years 

Since what he told me he had done, 

He seemed to live it all again 

And as he named them one by one 

And told how each fought hand to hand, 

From Chickamauga battle field 

To Missionary Ridge, and stand 

Beneath the hottest fire of all — 

My blood did tingle in my veins, 

Inspired by him whose faltering tongue 

Was thrilled with memories of the past. 
* * * # * * 

A hundred guns stand in their place 
Just as they stood so long ago; 
Like sentinels they stand and guard 
The heroes of the friend and foe. 
For side by side they lie in death 
Countless heroes of the day, 
The same to him who wore the blue, 
The same to him who wore the gray. 



[28] IDLE 

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You know I've racked my brain of late 
To figure out just punishment 
For him who sits beside you there 
In movie show, and squirms and twists 
Throughout it all; who stabs you with 
His elbow, then, brings up his foot 
To cross his legs, and as he does 
Knocks from your lap your brand new hat 
And, as it falls upon the floor 
The usher kicks it down the aisle; 
Then presently he changes feet 
And as he does he wipes the mud 
From off his shoes upon your pants 
And steps upon your sorest corn ; 
Or spreads his knees in front of him 
Until you've scarcely room to sit. 
Well all of this you stand with grace 
Until he starts to leave the place, 
When with a swoop swings on his coat 
And musses up your hair, and more, 
Knocks your glasses on the floor. 
'Tis then you tell him what you think. 
He looks at you with maddened stare 
As if you had no business there, 
And answers, "If a gentleman 
With dignity can't see this show 
Without insults, I'd like to know." 
Will some kind reader tell to me 
What hope there is for such as he ? 



TALK [29] 

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Just night before last I happened 
To meet a couple of boys on a 
Darkened street. And they were of 
Ages, perhaps nine and ten ; and as 
I drew nearer I noticed then that 
They were indeed both manly boys, 
No doubt of good home with real 
Homely joys. But each in his lips 
His features to mar, held firmly 
A long and lighted cigar ; and 
The smoke rose in volumes as 
Each puffed away, oblivious no 
Doubt to the world and its way. 
Now listen, my boys, for I want 
To tell of a bright little fellow 
Whom I knew so well, who would 
Steal out at night, just the same 
As you two, and would smoke his 
Cigar and often would chew, for it 
Follows the other when it once 
Gets a start, and it all came 
About 'cause he thought it was 
Smart. Well, this little boy never 
Grew to be much, always dull in 
His studies, played hooky and such. 
And when through the years to 
Manhood he grew, he was stunted in 
Growth and intellect, too. 
So be careful, my boys, for you 
Want to grow to be men among 
Men whom the world loves to 
Know. 



[30] IDLE 



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It happened down at the "Daily- 
Breeze." 'Twas a banquet rich 
And rare, and they served the 
Boys just what they chose, 
For expenses they didn't care. 
The editor ordered up scrambled 
Brains, the manager a plate of 
Nerve, while the man at the 
Desk who handles the shears 
Said "Anything you can serve." 
And then came the man who 
Handles the cash, with a manner 
You all well know. "Just give me 
A platter of solid gold and on 
It a little 'dough'." And then 
Came the girl who sits at the 
'Desk and sends in society's 
Stick : "Just give me some toast 
With some boiled-down salve and 
Spread it on good and thick." 
And then the man who handles 
The ads spoke up and he made a 
Hit. "Just give me something 
That nobody 'wants' and I will 
Dispose of it." And then the 
Reportorial staff, with heels 
Worn down to the sole. "Just give 
Us a dish of something new, for 
We can't bear anything old." 
And on down the line the banquet 
Was served till the devil came 
In with a cry, as he stumbled, 
Fell, he was heard to say "Hell ! 
My order got mixed with the pie." 



TALK [31] 

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The other day I wanted a hat, and 
Hadn't bet on the election and had 
To buy it, and went into a clothing 
Store and met a man who's paid by 
The week to make you feel you own 
The store whenever you come to buy 
A tie or a collar or a pair of 
Socks, he bowed and smiled, says 
"What'll you have?" I told him I 
Wanted to look at a hat, and he 
Took me around where the hats were 
Piled and I tried one that I 
Didn't like and he said to me it's 
Just what you want and I said 
That it wasn't ; that it didn't fit, 
But he told me it did, and any way if 
'Twas any smaller it wouldn't do ; 
'Twas all the style to wear 
Them large, so large, in fact, they 
Come down to your ears, and this hat 
Did and so I bought it and went 
Away and when I got home my wife 
Just laughed and told me the hat was 
Much too large, but I surmised 
She didn't know the latest style; 
And wore it too church and friends 
All laughed and Monday I took it 
Back to the store and wanted to trade 
It for one that fit, but they said 
No, because I'd worn it, and I asked 
Them what a hat was for, if they 
Thought I bought it to carry 
Around. And I had to keep it. And 
After this when I buy a hat or a 
Tie or shoes or anything, I'll go 
To another store I know and if the 
Fellow lets me buy the things I 
Want and doesnt' try to sell me 
Things I do not want, I'll tell my 
Friends about that store and try 
[32] To get them patronage. IDLE 

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Last Sunday morn at early hour, 

I walked upon the city streets 

And saw a friend, a genial man, 

And he was running here and there 

And picking something from the streets 

And putting them in Sunday hat. 

And when I asked him what it was, 

He looked at me disgustedly 

And answered "Apples, can't you see ?" 

I said to him, "Why don't you buy 

Your apples at the grocery store ?" 

He said, "I did and other things, 

A half-a-hundred, more or less," 

And then I saw the "other things," 

Some coffee strewn about the ground ; 

A bag of eggs, and in its fall 

The eggs had changed identity, 

Some sugar and a loaf of bread ; 

And as he stood and looked at them, 

I asked him how it came about. 

He told me he had started 'cross, 

When a jitney bus at lightning speed 

Did honk its horn, and when he jumped 

He slipped and fell — "You know the rest; 

And after this when wife forgets 

To order groceries Saturday, 

I'll go uptown to restaurant. 

And now when I can find the man, 

The driver of the jitney bus, 

I'll drag him firmly from his seat 

Into some blind alley near, 

And when I finish — ambulance 

Will carry him to hospital ; 

And when I tell policeman there 

The reason I did beat him up, 

He'll let me go, I know he will." 



TALK [33] 



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I went into a barber shop, 

Pulled off my collar, coat and vest, 

And asked the barber for a shave ; 

I thought I knew my own desires, 

And what I wanted was a shave. 

But ere the barber finished me, 

I had a shave, a haircut, too, 

A shampoo and a face massage, 

And while this all was going on 

The negro blacked my brand new shoes, 

And they were patent leather, too ; 

And when I 'rose to dress myself, 

The bootblack brushed and brushed my clothes, 

And when I reached for a cigar, 

He struck a match and lighted it ; 

And took my hat and rubbed it down, 

And helped me on with overcoat ; 

And stood and bowed and grinned and stepped, 

And then I gave to him a dime, 

And he seemed pleased and then went back 

And when I went up and paid my bill — 

Instead of a shave 'twas dollar 'n half 

And I went out and thought to myself, 

"If I ever go into a barber shop 

And call for a shave, get nothing more, 

I'd want to have that barber's name, 

And have it framed in letters gold, 

And tell my friends about him, too ; 

And once in a while I'd let him shave 

And cut my hair and wash my head, 

Massage my face and give me a bath, 

Or anything he wanted to do — 

And tip him a dollar when he got through." 



[34] IDLE 

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The other day I called to see 
A friend of mine who works 
For a firm which occupies the 
Third floor most, of one of our 
Largest buildings here. At the 
End of the hall I met a boy 
Who said to me, "What is your 
Name and what do you want and 
Whom do you wish to see ?" And 
As he spoke he gave me a pad 
And I wrote it down and he 
Went out and then came back 
And said to me, "You'll have to 
Wait." I did, and as I did, I 
Heard the orders this boy 
Got and none of them were 
Very kind and some of them 
Did growl at him ; but not a 
Word did this boy say but did 
Whatever he was told. And 
Then I left and saw my friend. 
As I retired I met the boy, 
At the elevator shaft was he, 
And as the negro passed him up 
He yelled at him in accents 
Loud, "Why don't you watch your 
Bell, you crazy chump." And thus 
It was he had his sway. Who knows 
But when the elevator boy 
Retired, he went home and cursed 
His dog. 



LK [35] 

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Since the barbers have all raised the 
Price of a shave, Fve thought of the 
Nickels and dimes I might save, and 
Purchased a safety with blades, strop 
And all, that shaves one as smooth as 
A slick billiard ball, without e'en a scratch 
Or a pull or a miss — it was 
Guaranteed to do all of this. I 
Followed instructions and read all 
The dope, used boiling hot water 
And the right kind of soap. I 
Lathered and rubbed in, to soften the 
Hair, and then started in with 
This safety affair. It may be that 
Some rule I failed to obey; that I 
Didnt hold right, or pulled the 
Wrong way. It seemed that each 
Move of this shaving device did 
Pull out a whisker or clip off a 
Slice. I tugged and I pulled 
And I labored and swore if I ever 
Lived through it, I'd do it no more. 
And when I had finished, I cleaned 
Up the junk and put it away deep 
Down in my trunk, and gave up the 
Thought of the nickels I'd save, 
Went back to my barber and 
Asked for a shave. 



[36] IDLE 



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■ MB ■ ■■■■■■■■■K 



I reached my home the other night 

And found upon the table there 

An invitation to appear 

Some few nights hence to play the game 

Of Auction Bridge, and truly sir 

I love the game and promptly as 

Per proper dope I R-S-B- 

B-D'd that at the proper hour 

I'd answer call and be prepared 

To shuffle pasteboards in due form. 

I went, and to my great surprise 

I found some women played the game 

As well as I, and others who 

Knew not the value of the cards. 

The game commenced and as we played 

A lady sat behind my chair 

And picked the cards from out my hands 

And criticized my partner's plays 

Until I really didn't know 

A single thing about the game. 

And after this when I am called 

To play the game of Auction Bridge 

I'll take the place of one of those 

Who sit behind the player's chair 

And if I whisper e'en a word 

About the cards he should have played 

I hope that he will rise and kick 

Me sprawling from the lady's house. 



LK [37] 

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My Mother, thy memory 
Sweet doth dwell within the 
Sacred precincts of my heart. 
In fancy, again I see thy smile 
And hear thy gentle voice — a 
Smile and voice such as only a 
Mother's love can give. In my 
Dreams I walk with thee through 
The blooming days of my 
Childhood and realize that thy 
Guardianship did mold for me a 
Character ; that thy words of 
Comfort and wisdom were a 
Shining light upon life's highway. 
In sickness or in joy thou wert 
Ever with me. My comfort even 
Unto thine own discomfort was 
Ever uppermost. And today as I 
Look back upon thy life of 
Sacrifice, sacrifice I did not 
Then know, I shudder with shame 
And wonder if God will forgive. 
Ah, what would I not give if 
Time could only turn backward 
In its flight and make me a 
Child again. Knowing what I 



[38] IDLE 



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Now know ; recalling the trials 
And tribulations that came to 
That noble mother, I would 
Ask no greater privilege than 
This, to show my deep appreciation 
Of her motherly devotion and to 
Form my actions so that never 
For one brief space of time would 
They betray that appreciation. 
Young men and women, to you, who 
Still are blessed with noble 
Mothers, let me ask, do you realize 
All that you owe to them ? Your 
Lives, your names, your characters 
Bear the imprint of their life's 
Blood as it trickled out during 
Hours of labor and pain that you 
Might come to be ; guiding your 
Footsteps along life's pathway 
Until at last you grew to be men 
And women. Still they watch over 
You and nightly pray that you 
Will so live as to be an honor to 
The name of mother. Be kind, 
Be gentle ; no sacrifice should be too 
Great to do them honor. 



[39] 
...■..■■I 



With turkeys at thirty cents a 
Pound and cranberries soarin' 
High; and pumpkins almost out o' 
Sight — no other kind o' pie 
Would fill the bill on such a 
Day — it's lookin' mighty short for 
The feller who hasn't much to 
Spend, thou f eelin' that he ort. 
It's kind o' been a custom with 
Him and me and they, to have a 
Turkey dinner on each Thanksgivin' 
Day; our folks all counted on it, 
Mince pies and pumpkin too ; cranberry 
Sauce and peach preserves and maybe 
Just a few little trimmin's 
Mother made to set it off jest right, 
But things haint like they used ter 
Be, gone clean out o' sight. Don't 
Seem like Thanksgivin' Day without 
It yet I guess folks orter be real 
Thankful with what they have and 
Jest get along the best they can — 
There's some that's worse than they, 
Who never knowed jest what it was 
To have Thanksgivin' Day. 



[40] IDLE 



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Gettin' kind o' lazy, feel it comin' 
On ; can't tell when '11 git me 'er 
Jest when I'll be gone ; but when 
The spirit moves me, I ain't got long 
To stay, fer I'll jest pack my fishin' 
Kit an' — an' slip away. Ain't no power 
Can hold me when that fishin' bug 
Comes 'round, there ain't no use 
To argy fer I tell you I'm jest 
Bound to git out on the river, don't 
Care how hot the day' er whether fish 
Are bitin', I'm goin' to have my way. 
Sure is heaps o' comfort for a feller 
Who likes to fish, and to him who 
Thinks it's foolish, I want to say, 
"Jest hesh, you don't know what you're 
Talkin' 'bout, ain't ketched no fish, 
And more, never will, don't know how, 
Jest naturally feelin' sore." And so 
I'm gettin' lazy, feel it comin on ; 
Can't tell when '11 git me 'er jest 
When I'll be gone ; but when the 
Spirit moves me I ain't got long to 
Stay, fer I'll jest pack my fishin' 
Kit an' — an' slip away. 



TALK [41] 

I'.W.W.W.VAV.V.VAVAM 



When I was sick the other day, 

I called a man whom the neighbors say 

Is an osteopath, or something like that, 

And this is the story I want to tell — 

He gave me a treatment, and I got well. 

But I'm not surprised, the way he went at it ; 

He twisted my neck, un jointed my back, 

Pulled my legs (literally speaking), 

Then up and down my spinal cord, 

Pulling and pushing and twisting and turning — 

"You'd make a good baker," I said to him, 

"For you surely knead the bread." 

He answered, "I need the 'dough'," 

But said it wasn't personal ; 

And then he gave my neck a twist. 

I said to him, "I need a haircut," 

For that was the first time in all my life 

I had easily seen the back of my neck. 

And when he finished and said he was through 

I was all back in shape and as good as new. 

It's pretty rough treatment, and has some faults, 

But it tastes lots better than Epsom salts. 



[42] IDLE 



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Born and raised out on a ranch, 

Lived there all my boyhood days, 

Until I reached majority. 

Then somehow, sort o' happen so, 

Kind o' just slipped into town, 

Got in business and settled down 

To a regular grinding sort o* way, 

The same tomorrow as you have today; 

Seems like nothing ever new, 

Just the same thing through and through, 

Always wishing to get out there, 

Out on the farm in the open air. 

But when it comes this time o' year, 

The sun's warm rays through the atmosphere, 

Just sets you dreamin' in a sort o' daze, 

And it all comes back in a hundred ways. 

And you smell the odor of new-mown hay, 

And upturned sod, and flowers and grass ; 

And hear the call of the whippoorwill ; 

And the air all silence and lone and still. 

It's mighty inviting this time o* year 

When the sun beats soft and the spring is here. 



TALK [43] 

Mm B . RHRttttllillRHRRKMHMM"" 



I saw a man take down his 'phone 
And heard him call in voice distinct 
A number of some friend of his, 
And watched him wait for a reply. 
And when the central answered him, 
"There's no response," he spoke to 
Her in angry tones, and what he 
Said I can not write, and with a 
Slam he hung it up, and cursed 
The girl who tried to get 
The number that he wanted there. 
Now if this man would only 
Sit and watch the centrals as 
They work and see the troubles 
That they have and how they strive 
To please, humiliation would 
Subdue his angry temper, and again 
When he would be obliged to call 
A number and the central should 
Again reply, "There's no response," 
He'd say to her, "I thank you, dear," 
And just feel good for what he was — 
A gentleman. 



[44] IDLE 



I I I I I I 



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I remember well I savin' at school 
That sin would find you out; but 
Politics is worse 'n sin, at least 
It's just about. A man who runs fer 
Office never knows how bad he is 
Until he gits to goin' and cracky 
How they siz. Makes no difference 
What he's been er what he does er 
How; he's just about the meanest man 
That ever took a vow. Things he never 
Know'd afore about his own affairs, 
Comes loomin' up afore him like a 
Flight o' windin' stairs. Never did 
A honest deed, to hear his 'ponents 
Talk ; nothin' ever like it, was ever 
In his stock. Jest a common renegade 
The worst in all the land, when a man 
Gits into politics and tries to make 
A stand. There h'ain't no use in talkin' 
Sir, you'll allers have to fix and be 
Accused of everything when in fer 
Politics. 



TALK [45] 

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If your mother was old and 
Feeble and gray and was poor 
Like others are and had to 
Work the whole long day just 
To keep the hungry wolf away, 
Would you be ashamed when she 
Passed by to tell your friends 
How sweet she was and that you 
Loved her just the same as if 
She wore the finest silks and 
All the jewels wealth could 
Buy? Then when you pass upon 
The street some poor old lady 
Worn and bent, don't pass her 
With a fiendish sneer and 
Wonder what she's doing here 
But if she looks into your 
Face smile back at her and 
Give her place. If not your 
Own please bear in mind 
She's some one's loving mother. 



[46] * IDLE 



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Did you ever notice how nice 
It was at a musical or a 
Social or a tea or anything in 
The afternoon, to have some 
Artist play some perfectly 
Beautiful selection on the 
Piano while the guests are 
Coming in and getting acquainted 
And then after the affair is 
Over and everybody has sung 
Or read or whatever it is, to 
Play again while the guests are 
Expressing to each other how 
Perfectly lovely it was and 
Saying good-by and everything? 
And did you ever notice how 
Delighted and thrilled the 
Pianist was? 



TALK [47] 



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Speaking of mother, so natural it seems 

To pour out our love in sweetest dreams, 

We think of her tender loving cares, 

And our heart begins melting unawares, 

And tears of sorrow bedim our eyes, 

When we think of mother and her sacrifice. 

But now we come, 'tis father's day, 

And to you we love we wish to say, 

That while in the past poetic themes 

Have been of mother, and mother's dreams, 

'Twas not because we loved you less, 

But for mother, the love and tenderness, 

Seemed more at place, and words and thought 

Did brighten you, for the joy it brought. 

So father dear, we honor you. 

Our thoughts are with you through and through. 

With reverence due, we sing your praise, 

Our fathers, the builders of other days. 



[48] IDLE 

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The sky is filled with blackest clouds 

And all the air is cold and chill ; 

And wind doth moan from morn till night 

Beneath the misfit window sill. 

And out upon the frozen street 

The click and clatter of the hoofs ; 

And up above, the branches play 

Their tattoo on shattered roof. 

'Tis winter and its biting frost 

Doth grip the world with stinging power; 

And everywhere within its path, 

The shriveled plant and drooping flower. 

How sad, and yet above the cloud, 

The sun doth shine with brilliant ray; 

And hope and cheer doth linger there 

To welcome spring's returning day. 

And often when your all seems gone 

A ray of hope doth spur you on. 



TALK [49] 

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The man or woman, child or babe, 

Who, with no thought of other ones, 

Will carelessly or otherwise 

Deposit 'neath the table frame, 

In places where the public dine, 

Large gobs of masticated gum ; 

So when we sit to eat our food, 

We rub our knees against the wood, 

And lo ! They stick, the gum holds on, — 

(Another pair of pants are gone) 

I say the one who sticks it there, 

Is now the subject of my thought; 

And I would like to say to him 

Just what I think, but rules of press 

Will not permit me to express 

The few kind (?) words, so let it slide 

I'll hold my tongue and there abide. 



[50] IDLE 

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The man who lives in this day and age 
Who goes to church and everything 
And doesn't smoke or chew or drink 
And stays home nights and reads aloud 
Some story book his wife admires 
And gets the breakfast every morn 
And never goes to picture shows 
Unless his wife goes with him, too; 
And when some friend invites him out 
To have a little game of bridge 
Does then reply, "I'm sorry, sir, 
I can not come, my wife is ill," 
To tell the truth who'd rather be 
At home with her than anywhere — 
Deserves a medal as big as your hat. 
He may be a martyr, but he's right at that. 



TALK [51] 



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To him who sits by his open 
Window in office building and 
Chews and chews the filthy weed 
And expectorates out into the 
Open air and down upon the 
Passing throng with never a 
Thought or seeming care, I wish 
To say that you deserve the 
Worst there is on earth to come. 
I speak the voice of one who 
Was recipient of juicy gob that 
Fell upon my Sunday hat. Not for 
The hat I care so much, although 
It was a brand new Knox, as for 
The thought, yea even more, I was 
A human cuspidor. 



[52] IDLE 



Did you ever stop and picture 
Scenes of childhood with your 
Mother and think of how she 
Sacrificed for you? Would you 
Do the things you used to, say 
The things she told you not to, 
If she were only here to love 
You now? Too bad we didn't 
Know her as we see her smiling 
Yonder, just waiting for the 
Time we are to come. But if the 
World could counter and roll 
Back the years we've missed her 
We would clasp our arms about 
Her form and kiss away the 
Sorrows that we brought. 



TALK [53] 



■ ■ 



If the man who told me that ' 

When the dogwood was in blossom 

The fish would bite, will come to my office 

Tomorrow morning at half -past ten, 

I'll tell him what I think about 

The dogwood and the fish, and also 

What I think about a man who 

Will give a real good friend such a steer, 

And do it intentionally, with malice aforethought, 

Knowing full well that the fish do not know 

A thing about trees or flowers or anything. 

I went out yesterday and I fished all day, 

Didnt get a bit, all on his say, 

And I never saw such beautiful dogwood, 

In bloom anywhere, but the fish didn't know it. 



[54] IDLE 



a B K * B5 BS a M 



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Can you show me a hero of greater renown 

Than the baseball pitcher in his own home town ? 

Speaking of heroes, there's none I say 

Compared with the pitcher who wins today. 

For he will live in the hearts of men 

For years and years and years, and then 

They'll tell how in the final game 

With three on bases and no one out, 

He fanned the next three men at bat 

And didn't exert himself at that ; 

And then at last, when he came up 

With a man on first, he hit the ball 

And over the fence like out of a gun 

And they scampered home, and the game was won. 

Can you show me a hero of greater renown 

Than the baseball pitcher in his own home town ? 



TALK [55] 

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Publishers, Tulsa, Okla, 



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